It was the final open seat on the 5:10 bus from Champaign to Chicago, two days before Thanksgiving, when the snow began.
Daniel had bought it three weeks earlier for $55. At the time, the price had bothered him. Now, standing outside the Illinois Street Residence Halls (ISR) and watching the snow blow sideways, $55 felt like a mistake the bus company had not yet noticed.
At 3:30 p.m., everyone’s phone buzzed.
WINTER STORM WARNING. TRAVEL CONDITIONS EXPECTED TO DETERIORATE RAPIDLY.
A minute later, the bus company canceled every departure after 5:10.
Daniel stared at the screen.
“No way.”
Maya, who lived two floors above him, looked over. They’d spoken four times that semester. Three of those conversations had started with her asking his name.
“What?”
“They canceled everything after mine.”
“You’re kidding.”
Daniel turned his phone toward her.
“Five-ten is the last bus.”
Maya looked at the ticket.
Then at him.
“You have a seat?”
“Yeah.”
A girl in blue scrubs nearby looked up immediately.
“You’re going to Chicago?”
Daniel nodded.
“I’ll give you a hundred dollars for your ticket.”
He laughed.
She didn’t.
“My name’s Aisha,” she said. “I work at a hospital in Oak Park. My shift starts at seven tomorrow morning.”
Before Daniel could answer, a freshman standing beside two enormous suitcases stepped closer.
“I’ll give you $120.”
Aisha looked at him.
“Seriously?”
“I told my mom I’d be home tonight.”
A few feet away, Owen, another guy Daniel knew from ISR, pulled one earbud out. He was wearing a Naperville North sweatshirt.
“Two hundred.”
Everyone turned toward him.
“What?” Owen said.
Maya laughed. “Bro came prepared for the auction.”
“I need to get home.”
The freshman looked at Daniel.
“One-fifty.”
Aisha shook her head.
“One-seventy-five.”
Owen said, “Three hundred.”
“What the…” Maya said.
Daniel looked at his phone.
The little QR code had not changed.
$55.00.
He looked back at Owen.
“You’d seriously pay three hundred?”
“Right now? Yeah.”
Someone behind them said, “Three hundred dollars for a bus seat?”
Another student laughed.
“At that point, just buy the bus.”
Daniel put his phone back in his pocket.
“I’m not selling my ticket.”
Owen frowned.
“Dude, take the money.”
Aisha glared at him.
Then her phone lit up.
CHARGE NURSE: CAN YOU CONFIRM?
The freshman’s phone rang.
MOM
He declined the call.
He looked at Daniel.
“There’s one seat. Moneybags pays some insane amount for it, one person gets to go home, and the rest of us are still stuck.”
Maya frowned.
“Wait.”
She looked around at everyone.
“What if we just find more seats?”
Aisha checked Amtrak.
“Sold out.”
Maya checked another bus company.
“Nothing until tomorrow.”
“Flights?” someone asked.
“From Champaign? Tonight?”
Daniel checked. “Nothing tonight.”
“Do you have a car?”
“No.”
“Rental cars?”
“Are you twenty-five?”
“No, I’m eighteen.”
“Cool. I don’t have seven years to get home.”
Snow gathered on the shoulders of Daniel’s coat.
There were more students outside now.
Some had been waiting for later departures. Others had come outside after seeing the cancellations.
Everybody was doing the same thing.
Refreshing.
Searching.
Calling.
Complaining.
Trying to find one of the shrinking number of ways out of Champaign.
Maya stopped scrolling.
“What if we just get something ourselves?”
Owen laughed.
“Yeah, sure. Let me pull another bus out of my backpack.”
“No, a van. A shuttle. Something else.”
Aisha looked up.
“Like rent one?”
“Like hire one.”
Daniel shook his head.
“That would cost a fortune.”
Maya looked around at everyone.
“Not if all of us split it.”
She opened the calculator.
“How many of you are stuck without a ride to Chicago or the suburbs?”
Ten hands went up.
Maya raised hers.
Eleven.
Maya looked at Aisha.
“How much could you pay?”
Aisha thought about it.
“Eighty.”
Maya looked at the freshman.
“Maybe seventy,” he said.
Owen shrugged.
“A hundred.”
“Of course,” Maya said.
Owen sighed. “Please stop.”
They went around the group.
Seventy.
Seventy-five.
Eighty.
Seventy.
Ninety.
Maya started doing the math.
“We could probably get to eight or nine hundred.”
Daniel was already searching.
“Okay. Airport shuttles. Limo companies. Charter vans.”
The freshman pulled a notebook from his backpack.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting everybody’s names.”
“Why?”
“Keeping track of who’s in.”
Maya looked at him.
“Thank you.”
For the next ten minutes, they called every transportation company they could find.
“No availability.”
Click.
“No drivers tonight.”
Click.
“We can do it for nineteen hundred.”
“Absolutely not.”
Click.
A company in Savoy said maybe, then called back and said no.
A driver in Urbana said he could take six.
“Can he do two trips?” the freshman asked.
Maya looked outside. “In this storm?”
“Right.”
Then Daniel looked up from his phone.
“What about Bloomington?”
Maya glanced over.
“What about it?”
“They have an airport. There have to be shuttle companies.”
He started searching. The first company didn’t answer. The second said no. The third picked up.
Daniel explained the situation.
There was a pause.
Then he sat up straighter.
“Wait, really?”
Everyone looked at him.
He put the call on speaker.
A man’s voice came through.
“We had an airport group cancel because of the weather. I’ve got a twelve-passenger Sprinter sitting here.”
Maya stepped closer.
“You’re in Bloomington?”
“That’s right.”
“Could your driver come to Champaign and then take us to Chicago?”
Another pause.
“I can ask him.”
Everyone went silent.
They could hear muffled talking on the other end.
Then the man came back.
“He’ll do it.”
Maya asked the question everybody was waiting for.
“How much?”
“$825.”
Daniel looked at Maya.
She opened her calculator.
“With eleven people that’s exactly $75 each. Think we can do that?”
Aisha nodded. “I’m in.”
“Me too,” the freshman said.
Owen already had Venmo open.
“Book it.”
The freshman looked at Maya.
“Everyone else was looking for a ticket, but you found a whole van.”
Maya laughed.
An hour later, headlights appeared through the snow.
A black shuttle van pulled up beside ISR.
The driver rolled down the window.
“You’re the Chicago group?”
The entire group cheered.
Owen lifted his suitcase.
Daniel held up his phone.
“Still want this ticket? Three hundred dollars, and it’s yours.”
Owen laughed.
Maya slung her backpack over one shoulder.
“Thanks for your help, Daniel. Hey, there’s one more seat… I don’t suppose you’d want to come with us and get home a little earlier?”
Daniel looked at the van.
Then at her.
“But I guess you already have a ticket for the 5:10,” she said.
Daniel looked back at his phone.
5:10 PM — CHAMPAIGN TO CHICAGO
A student standing nearby glanced over.
“Wait. You have a ticket for the 5:10?”
Daniel looked up.
“Yeah.”
“You want to sell it?”
He looked at Maya again.
She was already walking toward the van.
“Seventy five?”
“Deal.”
“Venmo her.”
He pointed at Maya.
The student sent the money.
Maya’s phone buzzed.
+$75
She turned around and smiled at him.
“You got the last seat.”
The van was warm.
Aisha sat near the front and immediately texted the hospital.
The freshman called his mother.
“Yeah. I’m coming home.”